Stop Looking at your Shoes
by Didjargo
Summary: Weekender Fan Fiction: COMPLETE Carver is often a selfcentered individual, either too obsessed with foot wear or walking with the cool crowd to realize the world around him. It takes a tragedy to open his eyes.
1. woken up, for the first time

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 1: Woken up, for the first time.

Carver has always been one of my best friends, and let's face it- one guy hanging out with two girls all of the time, that would have been just weird. He may not have been the most supportive person in the world, but he added balance to my life. Of all of us, I didn't peg a tragedy like this to befall Carver of all people. But in the garden of life, it has to rain for the flowers to bloom.

It was Thursday night when it happened, around two in the morning. Or so I'm told, he says that when you wake up to the fire alarm buzzing in your head and smoke bellowing from the foot of your bedroom door, looking at your alarm clock is never your initial concern. None of use knows exactly how it happened, we'll leave that for the insurance people to figure out. But apparently it started in the kitchen, near the base of the stairs and began to work its way up. He bolted up from his bed and reached for the doorknob. Probably not the smartest move in the world, but again, in moments like these, one's chief concern is not recalling the 1950's safety awareness films we were forced to sit through in class. He burned his hand, naturally. Holding his beating red palm, he frantically looked around for another escape. And in his first, and only, moment of clairvoyance that night, he remembered that his parents had installed a hidden rope ladder in his window sill for just such an occasion. He bounded for his window, which was already open (it was a hot night, probably what saved him from suffocating in the smoke too), he felt around for the release handles and sent the rope ladder unraveling to the safety of his front yard. He reached a leg up… but then he hesitated.

We've always known that Carver had trouble getting his priorities straight, it was just one of his personality quirks that made him an individual. But his next move went far and beyond stupid. At this moment you should realize that I wasn't there that night. I'm telling you this based on second hand information from various sources. Carver himself revealed everything I've told you thus far personally. But I couldn't get him to go beyond the releasing of the rope ladder. This was something that he is still ashamed of. I had to get this bit of information from his sister.

His family was standing together on the sidewalk in from of their house. Carver's father had called 911 already and help was on the way. His family was an emotional wreck. Not because their home was going up in smoke. But because their son; their brother, wasn't accounted for. His mother was sobbing uncontrollably. Her husband embraced her tightly. He was sure that without physical restraint, nothing would stop her form running into the flames themselves to save her first born son. They could see Carver's window from there, they saw that his window was wide open and that the rope ladder was ascended. This shallow evidence consoled his heart into believing that Carver had already escaped… but where was he? What seems like a lifetime had past in just a few seconds, Finally Carver's mother couldn't control herself anymore. Ripping herself from her beloved's arms, she bolted for the house screaming "I can't take it anymore!"

Before she got halfway across the yard, slowed down by her husband's struggle to restrain her, Penny, holding Todd in her arms, pointed at Carver's bedroom window and yelled "Look!"

Everyone looked towards the window to a sight which rained pure joy into their hearts. That is, until they saw the full picture. Carver was indeed backing out of his window and climbing down the rope ladder. But his pace as admittedly slow. Penny told me that she thought that the smoke had made him woozy. But no, he was slowed in his ascent because he had his arms full. He actually stalled his escape from a burning building to save his precious collection of shoes. He leaped the last two feet of the ladder and ran over to his waiting family. Approaching them, panting heavily with shoes in arm, he looked at them with a sense of accomplishment on his face.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked, "I knew I couldn't carry all of them so I had to choose which ones to save. Do you think the rest of them will be alright?"

No one could say anything. His own mother couldn't even bring herself to look at him. Penny placed Todd on the ground and marched over to her very stupid brother. Carver just looked at her dumb-founded. All he could say was "What?" before Penny gave him a very un-loving, full-force, open handed slap across this face. It was so hard that her long, feminine finger nails actually raked across his cheek. Not drawing blood, but still leaving a row of red steaks on that side of his face.

Penny couldn't hold herself back, a mixture of anger and sobbing flooded her voice. "I hate you! I hate you! Do you have any idea what you've just done to us? Do you even care? No, you're too busy thinking about your sick obsession with shoes to even care about your own safety! It's time you stopped looking at your shoes Carver, and started looking at the world around you!"

Carver was in total shock. Never in his short life had anyone spoken such harsh words to him, let alone a member of his own family. A crowd was starting to gather and the sounds of the sirens were quickly drawing near. But they might as well have been a million miles away because the world stood still in Carver's mind. All that remained in focus was the faces of his family as he scanned across them, looking hopelessly for some sign of approval, for someone to take his side. He found nothing of the sort. The only true comfort he heard was his mother's voice saying "Penny, please stop. I can't handle anymore tonight."

He was finally jarred back into reality (perhaps awakening to reality for the first time) by a fire fighter's thick gloved hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright kid? Do you need medical assistance?"

Shaking back to his senses, Carver could only mutter a response. "No, no, I-I- I'm alright." The Fire Fighter gave him a hardy pat on the shoulder and moved on to join his comrades in fighting the blaze. Carver looked up to see his mother kneel down towards him. The threshold between him and his family was far less than in his mind's eye. She embraced him, held him tight, determined never to let go. Carver hadn't realized until that point that he had long since dropped his precious shoes onto the grass. His mother spoke to him through an array of tears telling him that she loved him, and that everything was going to work out. Carver couldn't hear her. Beyond the embrace he could only stare at his burnt hand and feel the sting on his face. "Yeah, … I- I'm alright."

And thus concludes the first chapter. I'll be honest with you people . I'm not much of a writer. It's not that I have trouble getting my thoughts out on paper, it's just that I rarely see these kinds of things through to the end. And with all honesty I can tell you that I haven't the foggiest clue where I'm going to go with this one. After reading a good number of Weekender fan fictions on this site, I've felt that Carver was a character that was never really explored. And for understandable reasons, Carver is a difficult character to write for, his cartoonishly self-centered nature meant that he would not open up under normal circumstances. And for that same reason, I've chosen to write this story from the narrative perspective of Tino, switching to Carver's state of mind only when it was convenient for dramatic writing. When I sat down to write this, I didn't want to write another Tino/Lor, Tino/Tish, or Lor/Thompson love story, this site's already got enough of those. I felt obligated to take the path less traveled. Well, I hope you enjoyed it, this is actually my first shot at a story that dealt with such human characters. I don't know how often I'll add to this story, or even if I'll finish it. Maybe a few plot ideas from the readers will get the gears turning.


	2. Phoenix Dawn

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 2: Phoenix Dawn

It wasn't until the sun rose that I first learned about what happened. Half the neighborhood knew about it by now, I guess I'm just a heavy sleeper. If I did hear the sirens last night, I probably dismissed them and returned to the sanctity of my dreams. You always hear the sirens off in the distance from time to time, but you never assume it has anything to do with you or anyone you know. I came downstairs to find my mom standing in the doorway to the living room watching the morning news. Clutching her fist to her mouth as if it were 9/11 all over again. I looked at her, and without a word, cautiously turned my gaze to the TV screen expecting to see the White House in ruins or something. What I did see was far less horrific but not easy to swallow none the less. I didn't believe it at first, my mind wouldn't let me believe it. But that was Carver's house, half burnt away, surrounded by on lookers and bordered by police tape. I didn't even give the news caster a chance to explain the details. I turned to my mom and asked with a broken voice, "Mom, what happened?"

She reached an arm over to me and led me to the couch where we both sat down. Her eyes never straying from the TV screen, her expression never changing. I looked at her and understood that she was just as afraid as I was. I felt her hugging me, as a mother would, I didn't mind, at the moment it was the only thing keeping me from shaking.

My mother and I sat there and watched the news cast. It was the most stomach turning experience. I felt that I wasn't able to breath again until I heard those ever so reassuring words: "No one was seriously injured." I think we both gave a collective sigh of relief. God damn their dramatic tension, why couldn't they just tell us that right off the bat. I might not have been late for school otherwise. Yeah, that's right, despite waking up to the thought that one of my best friends might be dead, my mother made me go to school. She told me that moping around the house wouldn't make me feel better and that seeing my friends would help take my mind off it.

My mom was right, she was always right, its one of those things she does. Once I was out the door and back in the grove of my daily routine, the shock from the morning wore off and I was able to rationalize my thoughts, I began to think of the more positive aspects to set my mind at ease. The Decartes' lived off a double income, both of which were considerably well paid. And besides the insurance, I knew that Carver's dad kept all irreplaceable documents inside a fire-proof safe, like all good business men should. It was a tragedy none the less but I knew they would bounce back no problem. As long as everybody was alive and safe, life would go on. All I needed now was the reassurance of my dear, closest friends.

I didn't see Carver when I walked into class that day, I guess he had a liable excuse. But Lor was absent as well. I was only 10 minutes late but the class was already in session and everyone was in their seats, staring at me staring at them from the doorway. I darted my head around until I met Tish's gaze. She was there of course, even if you chopped off her legs, she would drag herself to class. She just gave me a look as if to tell me to sit down because you look like a deer caught in the headlights. Okay, it was more like just a "sit down" look, I don't claim to be able to read people's faces well enough to get that much information from a single expression. Which is sad, because that night, I really could have used such an ability.

I met up with the girls at lunch time. Yes, Lor was there too. Turns out that her mother, coupled with the small army that is her 14 brothers, donated their time that morning helping the Decartes get settled into their hotel suite. Lor was brought along too. She said that her mother told her that Carver needed the comfort of a good friend. She jumped at the occasion, partially because it meant missing school and getting her own three day weekend… I don't think Lor truly grasps the severity of this situation. I had to ask. "So, if your mom let you take the day off to hang with Carver, why did you come to school for the afternoon?"

It was bluntly casual. I should have asked a million questions about how Carver was doing. I really should have. Maybe then I would have been more prepared. Lor's demeanor suddenly came down to a dull roar. Fidgeting in her seat, she pulled out a small slip of paper from her jean pocket and handed it to me. "Um, we didn't talk about much. He wanted me to give this to you." She didn't answer my question.

The paper had a hardness to it but it wasn't thick, it had a slight purplish tint too, it looked as if it came from the end table of a hotel room. It was folded over with my name printed on the outside. I flipped it open. The hotel's logo and name was lightly engraved across the top- The Phoenix Dawn Family Resort. I spent more time studying the hotel's name than I initially thought. I remembered that place, back when my parents got the divorce, I think I was about nine, my mom and I moved to Bahia Bay, but there was a mix up in the scheduling and the movers were late a couple of days. We ended up spending the weekend at the hotel. I was going to go out and explore the town but it rained heavily the first day we were there. It gave me too much time to think about what was happening in our lives at the time and I got depressed. The next morning my mom woke me up at the crack of dawn and brought me over to the window. She pointed out to the horizon and just told me to look. I remember it so clearly now. I witnessed the sun come up that morning. But it was more than just a sunrise. The hotel was at the perfect angle that if you looked out the east side of the building at that time of day, you saw the sun emerge from between the feet of two mountains off on the horizon. I watched it's warm glow crescent over the bumpy landscape of the earthly bodies, as if the phoenix was stretching its wings over the world. I guess that's how the hotel got its name. We stood there, watching in awe until the sun finally arched over the mountains and flooded the entire town in a sea of light. I felt as peace, knowing that as long as the sun rose in the morning, everything would be alright.

Whoa… got lost in fond memories there. I don't know why, I guess that I was just wondering if Carver had witnessed the same sunrise that morning. I almost didn't notice that there was more to this paper than just a pretty logo. On the main body was Carver's hand writing. It simply said "8:00, RM 95, Don't bring Tish."

"What is this" I thought to myself. That last part echoed in my mind. Why would he write that? What reason would he have to reject Tish's company? Was it a personal attack against her? Or did he just want to talk to me mano-a-mano? I looked at Lor. She was with him earlier today, she was probably there when he wrote this note too. I thought that somewhere, in her expression, there was a rational answer. For a girl, she is very good at hiding her emotions. I thought I caught a feeling of fear in her eyes, I still can't read people's faces very well, But I knew that she wouldn't go back to the hotel today even if I asked her to.

"So what does it say?" Tish asked in her calm, intelligent demeanor as she sipped away at her herbal tea. She thought she could hide it well, but I knew her, she only drank that aroma of herbal tea when she was depressed or worried.

It took me a moment to organize my thoughts. "It just says that he wants me to meet him tonight at eight." I lied. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her right?

"Oh, then I hope you don't mind if I tag along too." She said with a hint of excitement. She hasn't seen Carver yet today either and I sure she was eager to jump to her friend's side and lull him back to the world of the living with artsy quotes about life and whatnot.

"Um, actually, I think he just wants to talk to me. Kind of man-to-man you know." Let's face it, I couldn't keep a lie running if my life depended on it, my mother raised me too well.

"Oh, I see." She said, sinking back into the therapy of her tea. I think she was hurt, despite the fact that I had softened the blow for her.

"But you know what you _can_ do." I blurted out without really thinking.

She poked her head back up. "Hmm?"

"Tomorrow is Saturday right, so why don't you and Lor organize something for him. You know, really make sure he gets the time of his life. Lord knows he probably needs it."

"Yeah!" Lor agreed, (I thought for a second there that she heard me say "Lor knows" instead of "Lord knows") " I've seen that guy this morning and he is bloody dismal man! I'm positive that a day devoted to Carver is just what he needs." That's the Lor we all know and love, a real go getter. She could get anyone hyped up for anything. Even Tish was risen by the idea. We all agreed at that point. I would go see Carver tonight and the girls would get the preparations going for operation "Give Carver the time of his life".

The bell rang signifying the end of lunch. On our way back to class, I could hear the girls clamoring as they walked with me down the halls. I was trying not to listen, I wanted tomorrow's plans to be a surprise to me as well. I only caught a quick exchange: "It should have a central theme." Whispered Tish, "Yeah," doubled Lor, "Something about shoes."

They laughed at the idea, it made me smile too. I was positive that Carver was going to be the happiest kid in the world with what we were going to do tomorrow.

If only I knew… I could have stopped them.

Second Chapter is finished. I have to say, this chapter didn't turn out as well as I originally envisioned it. I had intended to give Tino his moment in the spot light for only a couple of paragraphs and get back to Carver, this is his story after all. But the more I wrote, the more needed to be said. Once I gave Tino a piece of the pie, I had to share the rest with Tish and Lor. Essentially, this chapter became a look into what Carver's friendship meant to the rest of the group and how far they'd go to make him happy. And I couldn't leave any of the other characters feeling depressed for the beginning of the next chapter, you'll see why. Writing this chapter took a whole lot of back spacing, Sometimes I'd delete entire pages trying to get something out of this that was on par with the first chapter. Three quarters of the way through I just wanted to finish it because I have so much envisioned for the third chapter. I won't spoil anything, but I know there's at least one scene that will bring you to the edge of you seats. If you didn't like this chapter, then just think of it as getting certain formalities out of the way before we get to the real dramatic stuff. But don't overlook Tino's phoenix flashback, the mythology of the phoenix is woven into the whole of the story. Also for those who suggested that I add humor to this story, sorry but I honestly can't see that happening. It would be like cracking a joke at a funeral. Well, I've been told that I shouldn't belittle myself as a writer so I'll shut up now and let you be the judge.

On an interesting side note. Phoenix Dawn was name of an ongoing fantasy story that I made but never wrote down in high school. Although my old sketch books are brimming with illustrations, I've given up on it since then- it was over-influenced by various animes and had plot holes large enough to drive a mad truck through. The main character was a magic user named Didjargo.


	3. Eating Away at His Soul

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 3: Eating Away at his Soul

I left with plenty of time to get there, I told my mom where I was going and hopped on my bike. It took me about 20 minutes to get there at a nice, even pace. I arrived at the hotel with time to spare and chained my bike up to the bike rack near the entrance. There were a handful of other bikes there too. But none of them looked like Carver's. I guess that went up in flames as well. I looked at the hotel map inside the lobby. Room 95, it was on the ground floor. As if I didn't trust my own judgment, I held the note up to the map for comparison. Why did I bring the note? 95 was such an easy number to remember. I guess it was that "Don't bring Tish" part that was still dancing on my brain. I wanted to ask him about it.

I found the right hallway and worked my way down it, counting the numbers on the doors thinking that I might pass by Carver's room if I didn't keep track. I was still holding the note in my hand, "put the note down" I kept telling myself. I eventually listened, shoving it into my back pocket, hoping that I would forget it there. Turns out that I didn't need to be counting the doors, because as I rounded a corner, I found Carver there, a short distance down the hall, leaning against his door as if he was waiting to be found. I gasped, sure I was expecting to see him, but for that moment my mind reverted back to that morning when I wanted nothing more than to see him. I called to him, "Carver!"

He looked at me, or at least he turned his head in my direction. He appeared as if he'd been exiled to purgatory for a million years. Lor was right, he was bloody dismal. As I approached I got a better look at him. He wasn't wearing his usual colorful attire, I guess that was gone too. I've come to accept that he had lost everything he ever owned. Instead he had donned a worn out sports jersey with ripped blue jeans. I recognized the get-up as having belonged to one of Lor's bothers', but I couldn't remember the name of the donor in question, all of Lor's siblings look alike to me. No really, they're all identical! Why is that? And for that matter how could Lor's mother physically manage to birth so many children? Honestly, those very questions rattled my brain the first time I met her family, but at the time I thought I would be over-stepping my boundaries if I had asked, and I'm really not good in awkward situations. But that's neither here nor there, I'm getting off topic.

"Hey Tino." he said apathetically when I was within a range where he didn't have to raise his voice. He sounded a bit raspy and his eyes looked sore. Had he been crying? I couldn't blame him.

"Hey Carve." I returned, " You look… its good to see you."

He didn't respond, he knew exactly how bad he looked. I dug through all of my thoughts that stuck in my mind, searching for something that would strike up a conversation. I finally settled on the question that has been burning in my back pocket. Without even thinking about it, the note returned to my hand.

"Hey uh," I began, " before we get started here, there's something that I need to get out in the open."

Again I got no direct response out of him. He sunk his back against the door and closed his eyes like he wanted to shut the world off. He had too much to think about.

"Yeah so um, this note that you gave to Lor to give to me…" I was trying to choose my words with tact, "why didn't you want me to bring Tish along? She really wanted to see you today."

"I don't know," he said through a tired voice, " I just… I didn't want her here playing therapist…. Not today."

I didn't like it, it was a poor excuse. But I let it go for the moment, I didn't want to make him feel worse. I looked around for a trash bin to throw the note into, to free myself from this burden. There wasn't any in sight. I shoved the note back into my pocket. I wanted to throw it on the ground but it would have just laid there, staring at me the whole time "Yeah, I can understand that." I lied, "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

An awkward silence loomed over us, I felt the need not to pressure him, and I look at our surroundings for the first time. The hallway was on the outside wall of the building, it had a fantastic view of the beach where the sun was sinking into the sea. The hotel's heated pool stood in the threshold between us and the rest of the world. The steam coming off the water, fading into the cool evening air, was all inviting. I didn't realize until that point that Carver's room was on the west side of the building, he wouldn't be able to wake up to the phoenix. Too bad, it helped me before.

I looked at Carver's feet, he was wearing one of his best pair of shoes, I guess it was the equivalent to comfort food for him. I caught him looking at his shoes as well, but he wasn't happy, like he normally would be. Had I known then what I know now, I would have seen severe hatred in his gaze, as though he were daring his shoes to burst into flames. I was about to say something but he broke the silence first.

"I'm so stupid." His words came out with all the grace of vomit.

"W-What?" I stuttered, " Why would you say that?"

He didn't give me a straight answer, he told me what happened that night from his perspective, illustrating at a point by showing me his left hand, which bore an ugly and probably sensitive burn mark on the palm. You already know what happened, I've told you this part remember?

He cut himself off at the point that would have answered my question. He was so ashamed that he couldn't get the words out. I sensed that he really wanted to tell me but he just couldn't. He grew weary trying to fight himself, after a while he just pulled himself away from the door and reached for the handle. I couldn't help but notice that his hand flinched a bit before he grabbed it. Guess he's still a bit gun-shy.

"I'm tired Tino." He sure sounded tired. "I'm going to bed. Thanks for listening to me."

I wanted to say so much to him at that moment. If only I could find just the right words to bring back the Carver I knew the day before. All I could think of was the weekend we had promised to give him. "I'll still see you tomorrow right?"

"Yeah… Tomorrow." He said, though his voice sounded distant.

"Okay…" I was at a loss for words, "Later days." What can I say, it was a reflex response. Carver didn't return the gesture. He wanted to escape before I could see him at his lowest point.

I walked my bike home and went straight to bed. I was tired as well, it had been a trying day for all of us. I was worried about him, more so than ever. I lulled myself to sleep thinking about how good it will be when things get back to normal.

Saturday morning came around, it truly felt like a new day. The girls and I got together at my place before we went to pick up Carver. I sensed that Tish was still harboring feelings of rejection, so I tried to justify Carver's excuse.

"Playing therapist? What makes him think I would do that?" she exclaimed, "Carver is just psychologically distancing himself, unable to face up to reality. I'd say I should have marched over there with you last night and made him see the light of his situation!"

Lor laughed hysterically, "Dude," she chuckled, " You are such a shrink!"

Tish turned to Lor. Arching her back, she brought the tips of her fingers to her chest and adopted that fake old-English accent she used when she was being jokingly dramatic. "Nay, for as a thespian, 'tis my passion to reach into the very souls of the people and well up their true emotions through my art."

"Wow Tish," I said with a grin across my cheeks "You sure picked an odd time to come out of the closet."

She dropped the act and smacked me across the arm, "I said THES-pian!"

I knew what she said, I just loved teasing her sometimes. And hey, it got a laugh out of everyone. After seeing Carver last night, my secret plan was to get everyone's spirits as high as possible that morning, hoping it would rub off on him. What a fool I was. Even my own mother had taught me time and again that misery is far more infectious.

Around 10 o'clock, we made our way to the hotel, but Carver was still in bed when we arrived there. We had to practically drag him out the door. His parents knew that this is what he needed.

We went through the paces of our usual Saturday, only this one was all about Carver, doing his favorite things, treating him like a king, not letting him pay for anything (not that he did anyways). But it was an up-hill battle, like it hurt for him to hold a smile. What could I compare it to? Picture you're at the amusement park with your friends and you had just eaten enough chili-cheese fries to sink the navy. And your friends are all like "Com'on, let's go on the all of the wildest rides in the park!" And you comply, despite the fact that your stomach is twisting and grinding with every loop-de-loop and 40-foot drop… Ahh, memories… Okay, it wasn't literally like that, but it was like he was holding something back that he didn't want us to see, and if I had inherited any of my mother's mind-reading abilities, I would have seen it right there and stopped the ride to let him off.

It was getting into the afternoon, our day had progressed us to the mall. Despite our efforts, Carver still wasn't anywhere near being Carver again. I admit, I was starting to get a little annoyed.

"Don't worry Tino," Lor said in a whisper so that Carver couldn't hear as we walked along the corridors of this shrine to shopping. "Everything may have been hopeless up to now, but we've prepared with the cram duh la… the camp al a… the cream of the cramps!"

I gave her a raised eyebrow.

"I think you're trying to say 'crème de la crème'" Tish corrected.

"Right," Lor said, " The best damn part of the day."

Tish rolled her eyes, resolving that it is a fruitless endeavor to try and add a bit of culture to Lor's vocabulary.

I was curious, "Okay, what is it?"

They both looked at each other like twin sisters and spun around on their heels to face our droopy comrade.

"Carver," Tish started, " Guess what we're going to do now."

Carver wore the question on his face. The girls giggled a bit in anticipation.

"Oh God, I feel like such a girl saying this," Lor sniggered. Think it's ironic? Not if you know Lor, "We're going shoe shopping!"

He snapped to attention, finally we were getting somewhere! We rolled with it. The more we talked about shoes, the more of a reaction we got out of him. It was fun, we honestly thought we were doing a good thing, how could we have been so blind?

I looked over at my friend and I saw it happening. It was like something from deep within him was clawing to the surface. He was going mad right before my eyes. I've already stopped talking but Tish and Lor just kept going on about shoes this and shoes that, if only they could see what I saw. Everything good about that day had just went completely down the drain.

I remember shaking my head, eye's wide, mouthing the words "No, no, no, shut up, shut up!" I can't remember if I said it or just thought it but it was all too little too late. Whatever was tearing away at Carver's soul just broke free. At that moment the world ceased to exist and time came to a grinding halt. I had enough time to analyze every horrifying moment. I saw him turn his torso away from me, I saw him recoil his fist, and I heard him give out a battle cry. I felt every individual beat of my heart as my pulse quickened. Was he going to hurt himself? Was he going to hurt one of us? It was like playing a game of Russian roulette. Someone was going to get hurt.

And then it just happened. I saw him release his fist like a wild dog. I saw his target. It didn't seem real. I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Carver would never hit a girl! He would never hit a girl with glasses! He would never, ever, in a million years, no matter what happened, dare to lay a hand on Tish. I did't know who he was, but Carver wasn't there anymore. Only some kind of monster in his image remained. I did all that I could. I dove at him, I thought I could stop him. The problem about time being slowed down is that my muscles were under the same pressure. I didn't know if I would make it in time. I closed my eyes. I heard Tish scream, and for a moment, I was her fear.

I braced myself for the sound of the impact, "Here it comes!" I said in my mind. And there it was, a deafening CLANG. Clang? I opened my eyes, the world had returned to normal. I was nowhere near holding Carver back. He had missed what I thought was his target entirely, breaking his knuckles against a steal pillar a mere foot from Tish's head. Whether his true aim had been intentional or not, it was too much for any of us to handle. The pillar was resonating from the blow, taking its sweet time calming down from the force Carver had unleashed on it. Had he really lashed out at Tish? I had no doubt he would have done her a considerable amount of harm. Tish had had the wits completely frightened out of her (and that girl had a lot of wits to scare out). She had jumped a good couple of feet right into Lor, who managed to catch her. The girl had admittedly better reflexes than mine. Tish was unscathed, but hyperventilating. Being the resourceful one, Lor tossed the donut that she had been munching on into a nearby trash bin and used the empty paper bag in the classical method to aid her friend. Between shallow breathes Tish managed to yell out "ARE YOU INSANE!" I turned to the animal dressed as my friend. He didn't say a word. He lifted himself off the pillar, his knuckles were bleeding. He began to walk away. I stopped him, grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him against the pillar. It rang again, sounding like the collective moans of a thousand lost souls.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I screamed at him, still in the moment. I was so furious with him, how could he have just taken everything we'd done for him, all of the crap we'd ever put up with over the years, and just throw it all away? I so wanted to hit him, to make him feel it, my arm was aching to plow right into his face. I struggled to hold myself back.

He just lowered his gaze into mine. "I didn't hit her." His voice was so cold, so calculated. As if he felt that he had every right in the world to send that poor girl flailing to the ground in a mass of blood and tears. I was afraid of him… I was so afraid.

I didn't even notice that the mall security guard had come over to exercise his authority. "I'm sorry but you are causing a disturbance and vandalizing mall property, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I shot half of an icy stare at the security guard. I don't care if it's his job, this had nothing to do with him. Who gives a damn about the pillar, it wasn't even dented. The morning before, I was afraid that my friend was dead, but now I was afraid that he had been replaced by a monster.

Carver pushed me off of him while my attention was drawn, I stumbled back a few feet. He began walking away. My anger withdrew. The friend I knew was fading away, and I was powerless to help him. I raced after him, catching up to him at the mall entrance, "Carver! Wait!" I said, like _I_ had to apologize.

He stopped in his tracks but didn't look at me, "Just leave me alone. All of you, just leave me alone." And with that he took off in full sprint. I didn't chase him, I wanted to, but I couldn't…. the friend I knew was already gone, he died in the fire.

End of chapter 3. Wow, I sure ended that one on a darker note than I had intended. This chapter took the most rewrites to finish and ended up being twice as long as the first two (I was almost considering releasing this one as two separate chapters, separated by the Friday night and the Saturday morning. But that would have been redundant and I promised everyone the big shocking scene for chapter 3). I have a feeling that the following chapters will be even harder for me to write as I dig so deep into Carver's psyche that my path can no longer be illuminated by the light from the surface. So many times I wanted Carver to break down and cry, to reveal everything that was torturing him. I hung over the Friday night conversation between Tino and Carver for days trying to get it right (I still think I've only scratched the surface, but I didn't want to reveal too much at the time). I could put myself into Tino's shoes no problem, I've been there, but Carver was a challenge to say the least. I just hope that I was able to make his inner struggle and self-loathing clear. Despite my earlier protests, I did end up writing a considerable amount of conversational humor into this chapter. It was just the chemistry of the characters, it couldn't be denied.

I know many people still can't understand why I took up this challenge to write an emotional Carver story (especially a certain notorious Carver hater whom shall remain nameless), and sometimes I ask myself that same question. What can I say, I've never been one to take the easy course with these sort of things. If Weekender Fan Fiction is a path up a mountain, I went and scaled the rocks instead.

One last note, I don't know if anyone else picked up on this, but in chapter 2, I made mention that Tino's parent's got divorced when he was 9 years old and then he moved with his mother to Bahia Bay. Well, Lord Malachite pointed out that Tino's parent's separated when he was too young to remember what it was like living with his dad and that he's always lived in Bahia Bay. I didn't have a stock of the episodes for reference. So I turned to my own life experience for that scene. But continuity aside, I think I got the message across.

Well, keep those reviews coming, they really help me decide how to mold the outcome of the story. And I'd like to personally thank Lord Malachite for standing in my corner while I wrote this chapter, he will always be the true King of Weekender Fan Fiction in my mind.


	4. Ghost in the Hallway

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 4: Ghost in the Hallway

I stood there in the mall entrance… waiting. For what? I don't know… I just wanted something to happen. Something that would justify what took place there that day. As if Carver was going to come running right back, tell me that it was all a big misunderstanding, and that we could all be friends again. Yeah, I know, wishful thinking.

Ultimately, I had to pull myself away from the entrance. I was starting to get in people's way. I returned to the spot where I left Tish and Lor. I looked at the pillar but I averted my gaze when my mind drew the horrible scene all over again. I darted my head around, looking for the girls. They were sitting together on a bench not too far away. Tish, though she had calmed down, was slumped over like a wilted flower. Suffering in loss and disbelief. Lor was there for her, comforting her, making hollow promises to give Carver a swift kick in the berries the next time she saw him… she would eventually calm down too.

Few words were exchanged between us. I felt so guilty. I kept thinking about how it was all my fault. I was the one who suggested that we put on this show for him, I was the one who couldn't help him when he tried to open up to me the night before, I was the one who got everyone worked up that morning, and I wasn't able to see the torment in his eyes until it was too late. Everything, everything that I did that weekend boiled down to one simple fact, I failed him.

We decided to head home for the evening. There was nothing left to salvage in that day. I returned to the comfort of my dwelling, to soak in my mother's sage-like wisdom. I never had to explain myself to her, she just knew.

"Tino," My mother said from the other end of the dinner table. "I know that you feel like you've failed him, but it's not your fault. This is something that Caver has to work out with himself."

I looked into the surface of the table, "But I just thought I could… you know…"

"Spin him around to his happy side again?" She said. Which was exactly what I was going to say.

"Yeah, something like that." I answered.

"Listen," she began as she stretched across the table placing her hand on mine. "I don't claim to fully understand Carver's… hobbies. But I know that he must be feeling a void inside from the loss of it all. And although I know your intentions were pure, showering him in what reminded him of his loss just opened up the wound again. It's like when people just get through a messy breakup, it takes them more than a day to get back in the saddle."

"But it just makes me feel so helpless." I said.

"I know it does honey," My mother comforted, "But give him time to himself. You can't force someone to run until the leg is healed. Otherwise, you'll just end up breaking it again. Sooner or later Caver will realize what he's done and come running back. And I want you there when that happens. Alright?"

I sighed.

"Now come on," She said, "eat your dinner before it gets warm."

"Isn't food supposed to be served warm?" I retorted, dangling a long brownish-green stringy thing from my fork.

"It's an old fashioned meal. Before the discovery of fire." She answered sarcastically, "Just eat it."

I responded jokingly with a caveman like "ugh!"

I had a horrifying dream that night. Probably the first true nightmare I've had in a long time. I dreamt that I was running through a series of very dark, decrepit, hallways. Everything looked as if it had been ravaged by fire. But I was not running scared, I was more excited and joyful. I didn't feel troubled by my surroundings because I knew that as long as I had my light, I'd be fine. But it wasn't like I was holding any sort of torch- I _was_ the light. My body, while still maintaining a vaguely human form, was composed of pure energy. I emitted a brilliant white glow with a blue core, my radiance illuminated the hallways like a flashlight. And thus, My gleeful exploration went undaunted. That is, until I rounded a corner to discover the most hideous and frightening ghost you could ever imagine. It was just standing there in the middle of the corridor, staring me down. The image still haunts my mind. I remember most distinctly that his eyes and mouth were like deep, dark, hollow voids. As if oblivion dwelled just beyond his face. I tried to run but as soon as I turned around I smacked right into a wall that wasn't there before. The wall was pure white and glowing, a complete contrast to the rest of my surroundings. At that moment I had realized that _my_ light is no longer illuminating the hallways. I turned back around to seek another escape. But the ghost, whom when I last saw was more than 20 feet away, was now right up next to me. The spectre grabbed me by the arms and pinned me against the white wall with monstrous strength. I struggled to break free but his grip remained solid. All I could do was twist in agony, his palms burned like fire into my arms. He began to stretch his mouth open beyond human capacity, eclipsing his entire face. I could hear the bones and sinew in his skull twisting and cracking in the most sickening and unnatural way. I felt my vision being drawn in the dark vortex of his mouth and then everything went black. That's when I woke up. Screaming.

A few seconds later I heard loud, frantic footsteps in the hall and then my mother's voice on the other side of my door. "Tino? Are you alright? I'm coming in."

She opened the door and ventured in. I was sitting up in my bed, breathing heavily, with beads of sweat on my forehead. My eyes were filled to the brim with terror.

She crossed my room and embraced me. "Oh sweetie, " She said in a soft, sympathetic voice as she cradled my head in her arms. "You had a bad dream didn't you? It's okay, you're awake now. I bet it had something to do with this whole Carver situation, didn't it?"

My eyes stared blankly forward. The image of the ghost would not leave my mind. "Ye- I mean no… I just…I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well okay," she said, gently releasing me of the embrace, "I won't pry. Get yourself cleaned up and come down for breakfast. It's about time to get up anyways."

The breakfast table was unusually quiet, my mother stood by her word and didn't pry. But I was still trying to fight off the ghost in the back of my mind. Normally, my dreams would have slipped from my memory once I got into my morning routine. But this one didn't just linger, it was damn well suffocating me. I needed to get out and clear my head. I knew that a bike ride would do me a world of good. My mother agreed and sent me on my way.

Not ten minutes after I left, the phone rang, my mother picked it up. "Hello…… hmm?…….. Oh yes Carver's mother, how are you holding up?……… Yes well…… What?… No he's not here, why would he be here?……… No, I think I'd remember if Carver stayed over last night…. Wait no… I'm not lying to you… What?…calm down, what did he……… OH MY GOD!"

I rode my bike fast and furiously, completely unaware of the drama unfolding at home. I was still trying to shake the nightmare from my thoughts. Though my path was aimless, I eventually found myself one the sidewalk in front of the Phoenix Dawn Hotel. I stopped, sneered at it, and was about to ride on. But I only got a few feet before I stopped myself and looked at the building again. Something, some invisible force, was drawing me to it, begging me to venture within, to Carver's door, to my friend's side… if we can still call each other friends. "Mom said to give him time alone." One half of me said. "But I can't just leave him the way he is." The other half of me argued.

A battle of conscience waged in my mind. I stood there for a while, darting my head back and forth between the hotel and the path in front of me, until I finally let out an "Arrge!" and spun my bike around to drive through the front gates.

Despite my single-minded nature upon entering the building, I ended up just standing there, in front of Carver's door, the numbers 95 burning into my soul. I made an effort to raise my hand to knock, but it was like trying to lift the weight of the world. I lost my nerve, spun around in place, and let my back fall onto the door. I rapped my head against the door a few times as punishment for being so stupid. "What am I doing there?" I asked myself.

Suddenly, the door opened. I hadn't realized that banging one's head against a door sounds just like knocking. I jumped off as to not loose balance. It was Carver's sister, she looked as if the world had come to an end.

She studied me for a second than said "You're… Tino aren't you? You're one of my brother's friends, what are you doing here?"

"Um… yeah, I wa- AM Carver's friend… " I stuttered. "I- Is he in?"

She stared at me like I just insulted her, "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" I was beginning to feel anxious, the ghost was tightening his grip.

Penny leaned her back against the door frame, not looking directly at me. "He called us last night, said he was spending the night at your place." She explained, forcing the tears to stay behind her eyes.

"But he didn't spend the night at my place." I objected, perhaps I shouldn't have.

"We know that!" she snapped, "We found that out when we called your place a few minutes ago. Mom and Dad went out looking. They told me to stay here, look after Todd, stay around in case he calls or comes back."

I peered behind her into the room. Todd was indeed there, playing with the TV remote like it was a space ship. He was too young to understand the situation… lucky.

The tears in Penny's eyes couldn't be held back any longer, her lip distorted, "My little brother's gone and it's all my fault!" She slid to the ground and began sobbing into her hands.

"Man, what is it with this family, and this doorway?" I thought to myself, the words were so cold that I wouldn't dare let them out. "It seamed like a storm cloud perpetuated over them from this very spot. And I was their emotional sponge. Well… I supposed that this sponge could hold a just little more grief."

I kneeled down beside her, comforted her, and calmed her down enough so that she could speak. I wasn't going to hesitate, stay quiet, or hold back… Not like the day before, I guess I've grown in that regard.

She eventually told me everything that I didn't know about that fateful night. It was odd, in the social circles, high school teens always looked down upon us middle school kids. But for that moment, age and social class meant nothing. I was gradually enlightened to the whole situation. Carver didn't hate us, he hated himself. And he was punishing himself by lashing out at what made him who he is. It wasn't about the shoes, not entirely. Everything became clear, I knew what I had to do. Mom was actually wrong about this, if I were to let this wound heal on it's own, it would become infected and get worse.

I pulled myself away from Penny. "Where are you going?" she pleaded. I knew that she wanted me to stay, misery loves company.

I turned to her with a sense of duty enveloping my entire being. "I have a search party to organize."

End of chapter 4. I know, I know, it was a corny way to end it. But I only write what seems natural to the characters. And have you seen the episode "Taking Sides"? Tino can be very theatrical in his own light. That and when everything became clear to him, his good nature and loyally came rushing back.

In total contrast to the previous chapter, I've actually found this one really easy to write. Mainly because A: The conversations between Tino and his mother just seemed to come naturally to me. It probably stems from the fact that I maintain a good relationship with my own mother. And B: the nightmare sequence was actually, word-for-word, a nightmare that I had a couple of months ago that I took to writing down. For some reason, I felt that it fit perfectly with the events of this story.

Anyways, for those of you who are wondering. This story does only take place in the span of a weekend, just like an episode of the TV series. And in case you're not keeping track, we are up to Sunday morning now. So I can predict one… maybe two more chapters to this story before it reaches its conclusion. Come on, I know you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it, but who really wants to see Carver in such torment indefinitely (you can put your hand down Canti). But don't worry, as the final chapters draw near, I'll take the time to make sure that they are the best that I can offer. And I will probably write another Weekender Fan Fiction after this story, I'm already bouncing some plot ideas around in my head. Well, keep those reviews coming and Later Days.


	5. Was There Ever a Friendship?

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 5: Was There Ever a Friendship?

I rode like the wind. I didn't think, I didn't hesitate, it was like my actions were guided by a higher power. I arrived back home in a matter of minutes, skidding my bike onto the front steps, I leaped up to the door and ran inside without taking off my helmet or pads. Mom wasn't home but she left a note for me on the fridge stating what I already knew. Carver was missing, and she went out to join the search. I ran to my room, picked up the phone, and hit the speed dial button for Lor.

"MacQuarrie residence." Lor's voice formally answered from the other end after one or two rings.

"Lor!" I responded, "It's Tino! We have an emergency! It's about Carver."

"Carver!" she cut me off, "That two-faced, sucker-punching, jack-ass, what did he do now? I swear when I get my hands on him…"

"He's gone!" I yelled.

"Gone? Where did he go?" She asked a stupid question.

I had no patience for this, "I mean gone, gone! As in he's missing, AWOL, run away!"

"Missing?" she echoed, "W-what can we do?"

"Well I can tell you that sitting around here talking about it won't do any good."

I answered, "That's why I'm calling. I want you to get your parents and that tackle squad you call brothers, and I want you to join the search. But take your walkie-talkie with you so we can keep in touch."

"Roger!" she responded, "And Tino…"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

"Um… your welcome." I said. She then hung up. "Huh," I said to myself, "That was… uncharacteristic."

I shook it off and hit the speed dial for Tish's place. It took quite a few rings but soon the voice of her father answered the call. "Hello, You are calling of the Katsufrakis place now."

"Mr. Katsufrakis, is Tish home?" I asked.

"Hang on some seconds." Mr. Katsufrakis wasn't one to cover the ear piece when passing the phone, I could clearly hear the exchange. I heard him work his way up the stairs, and knock on a door.

"Petratishcovna, is young man on the tell-me-foam for you."

"It's 'telephone' Papa, and I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"Tishy, please. You are being in your room since last night. Come on out and talk to friend."

"No Papa, just tell him that I'm not here."

"sigh, alright, is what you want."

I couldn't remain the fly on the wall any longer, I screamed into the phone hoping they could hear me. "NO! Mr. Katsufrakis, please tell Tish to answer the phone RIGHT NOW! It's an emergency!"

Apparently, I screamed so loudly that even Tish could hear me. I heard a receiver being picked up. "It's okay Papa," Tish said over the other line in a despondent voice, "I've got it now." Her father hung up. "Yes Tino, what's the emergency?"

"It's about Carver…" I paused, I had to be more tactful with Tish than with Lor. "Tish, I have to tell you something, you can't be mad at Carver for how he's been treating you all weekend."

"And why can't I?" she sneered, "It's clear that he hates me."

"No! He doesn't hate you… he hates himself! And he's punishing himself by lashing out at us… because we tried to make him happy...or something." The explanation didn't come out as clearly as I had intended.

"That's a lie!" she spat, it was a mistake of me to get in a shouting match with someone as well spoken as Tish. "He was still nice to Lor, and he even specifically called on you. But all I've received from him is neglect and hatred!"

It was at that moment, trying to collect a response, that I really thought about Tish's and Carver's friendship. Did they really even have one? They didn't have any common interests, they never saw eye-to-eye, and Tish was always the one coming down on Carver for the way that he treats people. If it wasn't for their associations through me and Lor, would they even talk to each other? Did Carver really hate Tish? I had thought that my previous conclusion solved everything, that we could arrive to the rescue and everything would be as it has always been. I began to doubt myself and what I thought was the truth. "Carver hated himself", the more I thought about it, the more it sounded like a poor excuse. I began to convince myself that Carver lashed out at Tish because she was the easier target… what a coward.

"Tino," the voice from the phone jumped me back to reality, "Are you still there?"

I paused for a moment, "…Carver is missing. He's been gone since last night after the mall and no one knows where he is." I said without a hint on emotion, like I was simply relaying the facts.

Tish didn't answer, but I could hear the quiver in her breath. "We have to find him." I continued, "Whatever's happened, whatever he has done, it can be worked out. But we'll never get that chance if we lose him. Do you understand?"

She responded with a staggered "yes", it sounded like her heart was up in her throat.

"I already called Lor to join the search, and I need you to do the same. Bring your walkie-talkie so we can keep in touch."

"Yes, I will.' She complied, "…and…Thank you,"

"For what?" I asked.

"For being the good guy about this… you are a true friend… to all of us." She said before hanging up. Odd, first Lor, than her. I was only doing what I felt was right. Did it really make me all that special? Come to think of it, this determination, this leadership, I never thought I had it in me before. But this was the life of my best friend we were talking about, I couldn't allow myself to be any other way.

By force of habit, I hit the speed dial for Carver's house. But all I got has an automated message telling me that the number was no longer in service.

"Oh… right..." I reminded myself. I put the phone back on the hook, grabbed my walkie-talkie, and headed out the door.

Four families, joined together by little more than a bond between their children. Collectively, we combed Bahia Bay. Looking in all of Carver's usual hang outs, back at the ruins of his former home, the school, the beach, we even checked at Helpers Helping the Helpless. It was the only place in town that offers a shelter for homeless people to spend the night. But Carver wasn't there. Of course he wasn't, the volunteers would have recognized him and sent him back home. Wherever Carver was, he didn't want to be found. As the hours passed, hope began to diminish. Where could a 12-year-old boy disappear to? We began to fear the worst. Every moment of that day was a time in my life that I never wanted to experience again. It wasn't until noon that it happened. I received a signal from Tish's walkie-talkie. She was either way out of range, or her signal was being blocked by interference.

"Ti…..I…….Ca…er…….bus…….!" She said, fragmented through static.

"Tish! Tish are you there? Have you found Carver? Where are you?" I yelled into the walkie-talkie. I wasn't even sure she could hear me.

"..……b…sta….!" The signal was getting worse.

"Repeat that!" I pleaded.

"………." The signal was gone.

I stood there for a moment, jumping back and forth between the first and second message. "Bus…sta…the bus- the BUS STATION!" but which bus station? It could be any of them! I had to relay the message to the rest of the search party. If Carver got on a bus out of town, we could never find him. "Please Tish, please" I said out loud as I rode my bike to rendezvous with the rest of the search party, "What ever you do, don't let him go."

End of chapter 5. This is a short chapter, but I'm not apologizing. I don't have to make the chapters long to make the story good. And I've been updating rapidly, so don't complain. I had to be careful with this one, Tino is being uncharacteristically brave in this chapter, and I had to make sure that he didn't fall too far out of character. For the closing chapters, I've spent a very long time watching old episodes, trying to figure out what the friendships of each character means to one another. Concluding that Tino is very much the glue that holds them together.

There really isn't much that I could say about this chapter. I mean it began and ended the way I wanted it to. But it was definitely not the best. I contemplated adding more events to it, but that would be like welding extra junk onto a sculpture just to make it look more impressive. I've resolved that , just like for chapter 2, this is a wind up before the pitch. And believe me, the final chapter will be one hell of a pitch. To be perfectly honest, I've already finished writing the finale. But I'm going to wait a few days after posting this chapter before I let you have it… got to hold you in suspense and all. Maaaaaaybe I'll wait until the reviews start coming in before I give it to you. Don't worry, I won't hold out on you too long (). Later Days.


	6. Final Confrontation

Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You

Chapter 6: Final Confrontation

"Tino," Tish spoke into the walkie-talkie, "I've found Carver at the bus station!"

she waited for confirmation but all she heard was Tino's voice broken up by a lot of static. "…..Tish………….there……..ou…….Car…………are you?"

"This is not good." She thought to herself. In a last attempt, she spoke into the walkie-talkie with a clear and simple message, enunciating every word, "Ashrise bus station!"

She paused… it was no good, there was too much interference. Dropping the useless machine into the basket of her bike, she looked through the glass walls of the station to see if he was still there. Indeed, he had not moved from that spot. Carver didn't even know she was there. He was still as a statue, back faced to her, looking up at the transit map. This was one of the larger, central bus stations, not a simple bus shelter with a sign that you see every few blocks. It was the kind where someone could catch a bus going anywhere in Bahia Bay, even out of town.

She took a deep breath, she was all alone on this. She pushed the door open and walked in. Save for the two souls, the station was completely deserted. Carver didn't give any reaction as she slowly walked towards him. She took each step cautiously, as if she was walking through a mine field. When she got within a few feet, Carver caught her reflection in the glass covering the transit map and turned around to face her.

She stopped in her tracks, they were only a few feet apart but it was like there was a wall between them. For the longest time, no one broke the silence. In contrast to the deafness of the world, Tish's mind was over crowded with a multitude of emotions and thoughts clamouring for her voice. She didn't know what to say or how to feel. What was she going to say to him? Should she be angry, sympathetic, forceful, maternal, should she scream and let everything out… or should she just stand there and let the silence linger? Her heart begged for him to start the conversation; to make the first move. But he remained silent, patient, like he had all the time in the world. There has never been a play written, a book authored, or an opera performed that could have ever prepared her for this.

She eventually had to speak first, her words bubbled to the surface as a simple "Where are you going?"

Carver lowered his eyebrows, like he was expecting her to say something else. "Nowhere." He distantly said as he turned back around.

"Then, what are you doing here?" she timidly asked. He didn't answer her directly, just slightly lowered his head.

"Carver," She spoke up, "What happened to you?"

He didn't answer.

"Why are you doing this?"

Still no answer. Tish was waning to the side of anger.

"Stop being such a martyr!" She yelled, "Do you think this will make it all better? Torturing yourself and the people around you! What is it all worth to you?"

Quietness fell over them once more. This time, it was Carver who broke the silence. "Four pairs of shoes." He said hatefully.

"What?" Tish asked.

"The night of the fire, I didn't escape while I could because I wanted to save as many of my shoes as I could carry." He explained.

He spun around, "That is what I am worth to myself! That is what I was willing to KILL myself for!" He screamed, "You couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through right now! None of you can! I can't stand being around myself any longer! I hate myself, and everything that I am!"

"Carver." Tish said sympathetically as she stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" He spat as he swatted her kind gesture away. "I'm a worthless, shallow, selfish human being! I hate myself and everything that made me who I am: my family, my friends, this whole God damn town!" He illustrated by pounding the transit map with his fist. "All of it is a reminder of who I am! I have to get away!"

"…And what about me?" Tish asked.

"What about you?" Carver sneered.

"You have given me the most of your hatred. You neglected me, rejected me, even came close to physically harming me… so why me?"

The familiar silence drifted back into the room once more, only to be chased away as Carver gave a spiteful chuckle. It made Tish quiver.

"Why? Because you were right all along." He began as he pulled himself away from the map like he was possessed. "You knew from the day you met me that I was shallow, and vain. And I hated you for it. Because you always knew me better than I knew myself."

He began stepping towards Tish like the devil was pulling his strings. Tish backed up. She could see the monster rising in him again.

"And every day you pounded down on me for it. You wouldn't let me get away with anything. And you were always right. What gave you that right? To be so smart and incisive? When I couldn't even see it myself!" He accented his point by physically pushing her. She stumbled back but remained standing.

Tish cast her eyes to the floor. "Then go right ahead…" she said in a hollow voice, raising her eyes to meet his, "…finish what you've started."

"What?" Carver snarled.

"Hit me, as hard as you can." Tish demanded as she stretched her arms out to her sides, leaving herself completely defenceless. "There's no one here to stop you now, so go ahead and do it!"

"You're bluffing!" he retorted.

"No," she answered, "I'm giving you a choice. If you really are the kind of person you say you are, if all our years together really meant nothing, than go ahead and do it! Finish me off! Prove to me that there is nothing left of the Caver I knew! Look, I'll even make it easier for you!" She reached a hand up to her face and removed her glasses.

"I missed you the first time, I won't miss again!" he warned.

"I don't care just DO IT! Hit me! This is what you want isn't it? To throw me out of your life. Well? This will make you happy then. Don't hold back, HIT ME! HIT ME, GOD DAMNIT, PUNCH ME IN THE FACE!" She finished with a strong, steady voice.

Carver wrenched his fist, his arm tensed, his eyes narrowed. She brought him on, she asked for it. There really was nothing to stop him. He only had to do this one thing, this one simple thing, and he would be rid of her forever; to sever the last tie to his former self. He stared down into Tish's eyes, she stared back at him, unwavering, unafraid, not even blinking. He grinded his teeth, Every word that she said pounded in his brain, infiltrating every fibre of his being. His arm felt like it weighted a ton, like he was fighting against himself. A battle of light and darkness waged across his face. Eternity dwelled in seconds, torturing him, stretching him to the brink between Heaven and Hell. The war of conscience clashed throughout his soul. Finally, the battle was over, his choice was made, he lost whatever was holding him back and began to raise his arm…………….. then the other.

He threw himself into her open arms. Letting all of his weight fall onto her. Despite her physical frailty, he knew that she was much stronger than he could ever be. They both sunk to their knees, he clung to her, holding her tight like she had just pulled him from the edge of a cliff. The demon was gone, he was free to cry out. The collective tears that he had held back for so long now flowed like a river into Tish's shoulder. He never felt better, it was like that first breathe of air you take upon escaping from a watery grave. And he had Tish to thank, for reminding him of who he truly was. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry."

She retuned the embrace, placing her hand on the back of his head, shedding tears of her own. Smiling gently, she simply said "Thank you."

Epilogue:

Tino here. There have been a good many weekends since that day. Carver's family ended up using the insurance money to move into a new place just down the street from where they used to live. It's nice, almost as big as their old place. Thinly decorated thou, but they're working on that. The only drawback is that for the longest time I had to walk by the ruins of his old house whenever I paid him a visit. But they tore it down not too long ago, now it's just an empty lot. Carver's doing fine now. We heard that he had a few appointments with a consoler to work things out, but we never asked him about it. As far as shoes go, he still collects them, but he has drawn the line between fan and fanatic, and decided to stay on the former side. Tish still has to fight with him sometimes when he doesn't realize that he is being a S.N.O.B.B. But that's just one of those personality quirks that makes Carver who he is. And honestly, we wouldn't have it any other way.

We were just having a good time at the beach today when we got hit with an unexpected down pour. Right now we're standing inside the shelter of the Snack Shack, trying to wait it out. Everyone else is complaining about how this has ruined their plans for the rest of the day. I don't mind it though, I like the rain… it's good for the flowers.

Later Days.

Author's Notes:

And thus does my first weekender's fan fiction come to its conclusion. I have to say that it has been nothing if not an interesting journey. I must confess that I actually finished this chapter before the previous chapter. It is simply because two hours before work one day, I was stricken with the literary clairvoyance often referred to as "being in the zone" and I couldn't possibly use it one anything other than the grand finale. As I sit here, writing these final notes, I actually still have to go back and play around with chapter 5. While it definitely begins and ends where I want it to, plot wise. I'm still going to fiddle around with it until I feel it is up to par. The final result being the fifth chapter that you have read previously… or will read… or have read by the time you read this but doesn't actually exist as I'm writing this… yeah, that works.

I don't know if anyone caught it, but the last line of the epilogue "I like the rain… it's good for the flowers." Actually comes full circle to what Tino said at the beginning of the first chapter: "But in the garden of life, it has to rain for the flowers to bloom". It was just something that I had planned from the beginning. Speaking of plans. I have to say that this story, while maintaining some vague form of my original intent, became something more than I had envisioned. The biggest example is the readers' responses to the "Don't bring Tish" part of the letter. Originally, I wrote it as nothing more than a cheap plot device so that Tino and Carver could talk alone. But seeing the affect it had on people, I had to explore it further. Essentially changing the final confrontation from being between Tino and Carver to being between Tish and Carver. Which worked out all the better. It also explains why I had changed the narrative from Tino's perspective to a third-person perspective for the final chapter.

As the lid closes on this story, I am eagerly piecing together a worthy plot for my next endeavour. So I shall return to the pen and quill soon enough. Before I end here, I truly feel that I need to acknowledge the people who supported me through this trail of expression. I'd like to thank Gerard Dominus, for giving me such brilliant insight into the deeper meaning of Carver and Tish's friendship. You'll notice that I actually took a few lines directly from the chat transcript. I'd like to thank Attic Man, because it was a fan made music video about Tino and Lor which gave credit to your story "The Feeling" that lead me to this site in the first place. I'd… I actually don't want to… but your unjust hatred toward the character Carver actually inspired me to write this story. I don't like you, and you don't like me, but your animosity pushed me to make this story the best I could offer…so… th-thank you Lord Canti (yuck, I feel so dirty now). And finally, to the man who wrote "The Awakening", and actually contacted me in response to my reviews, the man who not only stood in my corner this whole time, but actually supplied me with a stock of Weekender episodes. The one, and only true king of Weekender Fan Fiction, Lord Malachite. Thank you.


End file.
